


warm me up, buttercup!

by hooksandheroics



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Exes, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Ice Cream Puns, Ice Cream Parlors, Matchmaking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-28 05:07:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19805371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hooksandheroics/pseuds/hooksandheroics
Summary: When people said these ice cream rolls are to die for, she didn't expect them to be so literal.





	warm me up, buttercup!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ladyfriday](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyfriday/gifts).



> tara had a really interesting story and we decided it's a good AU material. as usual, this is the workings of a brain that should be asleep. lovingly incoherent, beautifully messy, excellently disorganized. 
> 
> enjoy, my loves!

This is really not her week.

Tessa is _not_ trying to start workplace drama, so she keeps Carolina’s suspicious activities to herself until further investigation.

And it’s not as if Caro’s doing anything that might constitute police intervention, but she’s one of the few people in the firm that Tessa doesn’t hate. She actually shares Tessa’s perpetual disdain of the men in their office and the pantry bagel selection so – when Tessa finds her sneaking into the bathroom for five minutes right after lunch time that Monday, and then on Tuesday, until today, Friday, she thinks she’s allowed a small amount of doubt.

“Further investigations” commence today because Tessa is tired and cranky and her best friend (more like work wife) is not at her desk just across from her to make faces while the white dude in his ill-fitted polo shirt beside her mansplains everything about their job.

She doesn’t bother with being stealthy, she just stalks off into the bathroom, banging the door loudly to alert Caro of her presence. She hears an indignant yelp at the farthest stall and proceeds there only to find her friend sitting on the closed toilet seat with a cup of…

“Ice cream?!” Tessa manages _not_ to exclaim. Her volume might have bounced off the walls, but the door is closed, so no matter.

“Tess?” her friend squeaks, ice cream dripping off her spoon.

“There _has got_ to be a deeper reason to this than ice cream if you’re leaving me to deal with Geoff alone after lunch time,” Tessa whisper-shouts, fixing Caro with a hard stare.

Caro drops the spoon into the cup and raises both her hands in surrender. “I can explain!”

“Explain.”

Tessa watches as her friend inhales and then exhales. “You know I love ice cream, right?”

“Is that your explanation?”

“No – it’s like a foreword – alright, just. Calm down.”

“I can’t calm down, the boss wants those numbers by the end of today and Geoff is an idiot, so I’m willing to bet he’s gonna set us back by another three days if I don’t get this sorted out.”

“Okay!” Caro stands up and starts scooping ice cream from the cup again, but this time, holds it out dangerously close to Tessa’s face. “Try this. Trust me, just try it.”

Tessa has got to admit, there is something to being fed ice cream by her best friend in the dull-colored bathroom of their Toronto office while they hear the flush running through the pipes from the upper levels. It’s what Tessa would call the ‘Monday defeat’, even though it’s a Friday. There’s just a defeated aura to it. Especially when she opens her mouth and accepts the offering, and suddenly, she’s taken back to a place – three years ago. A hot, crowded, bustling street in Thailand and the best dairy she’s ever had. She had ordered chocolate three years ago, and this one’s strawberry because Caro loves strawberries, but it still takes her back to that time. She’s loathe to admit it, but that’s one ice cream she’s willing to leave her best friend for.

“So, this ice cream place, right?” Caro starts when she feels like Tessa’s not going to detonate anymore. “I’m kinda good friends with the owner, and just recently, he started making these amazing ice cream rolls that he’s learned from somewhere, I can’t remember. And since we’re friends and I’m maybe thirty percent of his sales every week, he decided that I can test his new flavors if I come in at lunch time.”

Tessa’s eyes narrow to slits. That sounds like something she doesn’t even want to think about. “Then why are you here hiding?”

“There’s a math to it,” Caro explains, and Tessa’s eyes get even narrower. “I swear! The place is too close to take a cab, but too far to walk to, and I hate taking cabs, so I power walk. I have my lunch with me, I eat it in his shop, and then he gives me _this_ after. But by the time I finish, I would be late if I don’t walk back as soon as he hands me the stuff, so…”

Dead silence.

“And hiding? In the bathroom?” Tessa asks, still no less suspicious than when she walked in here.

“He says the recipe – and even the existence – of this new thing is confidential. I just want to respect that.”

“You pay too much respect for this person, Caro,” she says, arms crossing in front of her. “Weren’t you just telling me you’re married to your job? This feels a little bit like cheating.”

Her friend heaves a deep sigh and finishes off the remainder of her dessert. And then she points the spoon at Tessa. “You, Ms. Virtue of the Portfolio Managing position, must try it in its entirety – and perhaps meet the guy. I think you two would get along well.”

“You _just_ said it’s a secret!”

Caro smirks. “Yeah, I have a feeling he’s not going to be that hard to convince.”

*

Tessa should have known the moment she _read_ the huge neon signage up front. She should have known – because she’s never had ice cream rolls that good ever since Thailand and she knows only one person who can replicate such a delicate thing.

That person happens to have traveled to Thailand with her three years ago. Yeah, Caro would be so pleased when she finds out the entire story behind that, which she saves for later because behind the counter, there stands Scott Moir in his _MOIR SCOOPS, PLEASE!_ uniform, staring at the both of them, mouth ajar.

“Hey, Scott!” Caro calls out, oblivious to the sudden tension in the room.

Of course, she wouldn’t know about Scott and Tessa. She wouldn’t know about their five-year relationship, the inevitable end, and the radio silence afterwards. No, because Tessa specifically moved to Toronto so she can escape and start clean with a fresh new plan that involved none of Scott Moir.

There’s a lengthy line in front of the counter and the woman in front with her two kids is looking more and more impatient by the minute.

“Hey,” he greets back, dazed. He clears his throat and spares a brief glance at Tessa before nodding at Caro and gesturing to a booth not far from the counter. “I’ll be over in a minute.”

It’s about two seconds after sitting that Tessa pinches Caro’s arm, giving her a _look_. Tessa doesn’t remember ever telling anyone in Toronto about Scott Moir but then again, she’s only been drunk in the presence of Caro and no one else, so she’s not sure about that.

“What?!” her friend squeaks. “I promise this will be worth it. And the dude at the counter’s the owner. Scott. I’m sure you’ll hit it off quite nicely.” She doesn’t miss the opportunity to wink salaciously, which makes Tessa frown even harder.

Caro doesn’t know – which makes this worse because if she finds out, Tessa’s never going to hear the end of it. For the rest of her life.

That’s why when Scott comes over a few minutes later, she is composed and stone-faced. And just like before, _he_ is wide-eyed and in awe. Just once, Tessa wishes he’d stop doing whatever it is that he’s doing with his face because as much as it’s cute as the first time she’s learned about it, it is also too much of a giveaway.

“Scott, this is Tessa, Tessa, Scott.” Caro rubs her hands together like she’s an evil witch standing in front of a smoking cauldron. “I told Tessa here about your new ice cream thing because she’s kinda my boss and she found out about it. I hope you don’t mind.”

Scott takes too much time to answer that it makes Caro suspicious.

“Yeah, no problem. I would… actually like an unbiased opinion on it anyway,” he tells Caro, which earns him an indignant glare.

“I am not –”

“Yeah, you are, sweetheart,” Scott replies, smiling indulgently at their mutual friend.

Tessa has to actually avert her eyes because seeing him this close to her for the first time in so many years is just too much for the surprise that is today. Discovering that her best work friend is secretly taste-testing her for her ex’s ice cream parlor might just be one of the weirdest Saturdays of her life.

“Tess?” Caro says, turning to her with her brows furrowed in curiosity. “You are awfully quiet over there. Is something wrong? Are you suddenly allergic to ice cream?”

“Uh… no.”

Yes, she ought to say something smart. Like tell her friend that the man in front of them is her ex, or that she’s actually sick and has to go home. Or that some distant uncle has passed away in England that she has to travel there and be gone for a whole year. But that’s about the extent of her wit right now, with Scott Moir looking more and more amused at her lack of finesse.

Not that Tessa hasn’t actually thought of this very moment – or the concept of it – before. It’s just that she imagined something like having all her brains about her and a wicked smirk while Scott’s jaw drops to the floor.

“Oh-kay,” her friend says, completely unconvinced. “Well, Scott has agreed to make us a couple cups of this super secret recipe. Isn’t that right, Scottie?”

He nods and Tessa just can’t take the softness that has taken over his expression as he spares her a glance. She doesn’t even know what her own face is doing but it’s probably not pretty. He still smiles at her.

“Great!” Caro exclaims. “I’ll have the usual strawberry, and Tess will have –”

“Chocolate,” Scott says, almost like clockwork.

Caro’s eyes widen. “Great… guess. I guess.”

Scott coughs and blinks before standing. When he disappears behind the counter, Caro grabs her arm and gives her a look. “That is _seriously_ the stickiest eye-sex I have ever witnessed.”

_Well, fuck._

*

It’s not that she meant for it to happen, but it’s three weeks after that fateful Saturday and she still hasn’t told Carolina about her favorite ice cream shop’s owner and her (long, long, _long_ ) history.

She also hasn’t meant to stop by the place thrice a week. She has valid reasons that are absolutely not related to Scott Moir.

Tessa hasn’t meant to claim a booth as hers either!

There is a perfectly good corner booth at the far end of the ice cream place where she sat the first time she visited alone and from then on, whenever she sees him, there’s a “For Repair: Do Not Use” sign on the table that Scott flicks away for her.

“You’re making me sit in a broken booth?”

He gives her a smile so charming she would have fallen for it all over again if – if she were still in love with him. Which, she isn’t.

“Paint’s chipped,” he casually replies, setting down a cup of chocolate ice cream rolls in front of her.

The paint’s fine.

Tessa is decidedly not.

Caro’s starting to get suspicious because she’s running out of excuses – and not that Tessa hasn’t done a lot of introspection herself.

Before they were _together_ together, she and Scott were best friends. They went to the same high school, ended up in the same college. They were both taking up accountancy, but he’s always had a great affinity for desserts. If she claimed to have known that he’d end up making the best ice cream in Toronto, no one would believe her. Scott Moir is a little bit of a figure skating prodigy, and then a little bit of a math whiz, a little bit of a frustrated hockey player and a little bit of a football enthusiast. But nobody ever knew about his love for good dessert.

Only Tessa.

That’s a pretty huge thing to know about a person – too huge to let go. And yes, she _has_ missed him. That’s one of the factors, but _not_ the biggest slice in the pie chart. Missing him is just… muscle memory.

And it is _fucking_ her up because how can such a little portion have this big an effect on her. He is literally sitting in front of her, giving her expectant doe eyes, waiting for her reaction as she puts a spoonful of the black forest inspired ice cream roll flavor into her mouth.

Of course, it’s delicious.

Of course, it’s deep and flavorful and obviously made with love.

But she doesn’t tell him that.

“It’s good,” she says, instead.

“Just good?”

“ _So_ good,” she allows.

His beam is so bright it burns behind her eyes for a little bit. “An improvement!” he exclaims. He takes her cup and a spoonful for himself with her spoon, ignoring her tiny yelp. “Ah, it’s so good.”

“So…” she starts.

“So?”

“Thank you for… not telling Caro yet.”

“About?” he asks, and when she sees his grin, she knows he’s teasing.

“You know what I mean.”

He shakes his head. “Do I? I think I need a refresher, eh?”

Tessa throws her hands up, making to get up from her seat.

“Wait, I’m just kidding.” He clears his throat and runs a hand through his hair. “You know… I will always move at your pace. She’s your best friend, the story’s yours to tell. Besides, this whole secret relationship’s kinda fun, eh?”

“We do _not_ have a secret relationship.”

“Er, we kinda do.”

“No, we do not!”

“What do you call that thing we used to do with our hands then? Our lips?” and then in a much quieter voice: “our… privates?”

Tessa – for all that she loathes to admit – burst out in laughter at his ridiculousness. “Are you twelve?!”

He chuckles and sits back. When the minutes stretch into their default comfortable silence, he sighs. “I’m thinking about putting the rolls on the menu tomorrow.”

“That’s great, Scott!” she tells him.

He nods. “Thanks.”

“I’m really proud of you,” she says, loving the small smile on his face. When his eyes look down is the moment Tessa notices that she has reached out to hold his hand on the table. For a moment, she freezes, and the next, she’s pulling away.

Too much sugar for today.

He clears his throat and his expression. “You’ll come tomorrow afternoon? For the unveiling?”

Tessa bites her lip in thought. It’s not exactly summer right at the moment, and there’s an actual weather warning for tomorrow, but… Scott hasn’t lost foot traffic nor sales in the past month.

“I’ll be there.”

“Great.”

*

It’s also not Tessa’s fault that blizzard actually _pulled through_.

The digital clock says 11:44 PM and Tessa curses to herself. Yes, her staying late to help clean up after the rather successful unveiling of the new menu is entirely her fault. She is also to blame for not bringing the appropriate gear to battle the weather.

Scott is looking out the window with a contemplative frown on his face that is entirely too adorable for her to handle, so she focuses on the tables. She makes a mess of course, that has Scott rushing to help her with the turned over chair that she has accidentally toppled.

“I’m sorry,” he tells her. “I shouldn’t have the big boss doing the dirty work.”

“Technically speaking, you’re a bigger boss than I am.”

He shakes his head and smiles. “Tessa Virtue,” he says, stacking up the chair that she’s possibly damaged on the table. “You are the smartest person I have ever met.”

Tessa, of course, turns crimson. “Thanks.”

The winds howl a haunting tune outside, reminding her of their predicament. She is about to offer to drive him home when the power shuts down. At about the fifth Mississippi, Tessa has lost all hope that it’s going to come back on.

When she turns to Scott, he’s frowning again at the ceiling.

“I’m so sorry, Tess,” he murmurs into the dark. “It’s going to be too slippery to drive, and with the power outage, the traffic lights might be –”

“Dead,” she sighs hopelessly. “It’s okay, I can call Caro.”

He nods. “Yes, do that. I’m going to call my brothers, see if they can get us any help.”

*

Ending up at the back storage-slash-office of the ice cream place, huddled under two thick blankets in front of a battery-operated space heater with Scott Moir – it’s reminiscent of their college days when the dorms were too cold that the shitty radiators couldn’t handle it.

Except this time, she and Scott have a whole universe of history between them. When he runs both hands down her arms to warm her up, when his breath clouds up at her face, when he pulls her closer, she forgets that nobody’s physically able to help them, not even his brothers. She just… basks.

“Are you cold?” he breathes near her ear. Tessa tries to suppress a shiver and fails. “Here,” he murmurs, gathering her closer to his chest. His back is to the corner of the room, the space heater enveloped inside their little blanket cocoon, and she’s laying back against his broad chest between his legs.

“If you…” he clears his throat again. “If this is – if you want to stop, I will. Just tell me. Please.”

What she wants – if she told him to get away from her, he would take exactly one blanket and none of the space heater and she knows that in her heart – but what she wants is for him to stop talking too close to her ear and making her _want_.

Does she even remember why they split all those years ago? Right now, no. Irrelevant, her brain waves dismissively. What’s relevant is his steady breathing and the hard thump of his heart at her back.

And his half-hard dick.

 _That_ she knows too well.

“Scott.”

“Tess.” He sighs in defeat. “You know in biology class, we learn about the human anatomy –”

“Shut up!”

“I truly am sorry,” he says, voice entirely too sincere and quiet for the position they are currently in. “There’s a pretty girl between my legs and I’ve been trying not to kiss her ever since the day she walked back into my life. So… I’m sorry. We’re about to die, so I thought she should know.”

Oh, so it’s time for near-death confessions. Alright.

“I think you should have,” she admits in exchange.

Scott, for all his bravado, tenses up so bad behind her that she can guess pretty well that he’s going to pull some neck muscle and try to play it off. “Are you serious?” he asks, sounding like a little boy. He tightens his arms around her.

Nevertheless, she twists in his grip and looks at him with a small smile. “As a heart attack,” she replies. She’s so close that she sees his pupils dilate, feels the breath that he takes and the wild thump of his heart. She reaches up and touches his cheek, thumb light on his lower lip.

She’s trying to take this slow because they’ve only met again a month ago, but… well. Nothing’s ever been normal between them at all from the beginning.

“Oh, haha, death jokes. You’re really funny when you’re –”

Yeah, she’s not going to let him finish his sentence when they could be kissing.

*

The inevitable conclusion to this is Carolina’s embarrassing holler at the office when Scott shows up at lunch time with treats, a stem of Tessa’s favorite flower, and a dopey smile on his face.

And then an even more embarrassing victory dance when they finally tell her the _whole_ story.

Tess would never admit it, not even in a near-death situation, but she thinks they both deserve that.

**Author's Note:**

> comments! kudos! love em! @hooksandheroics on twitter if yall wanna chat


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